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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24517642">By Hook or Crooked Look</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/bizzybee/pseuds/bizzybee'>bizzybee</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Requests [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route, Post-Time Skip, Swordfighting, Unresolved Romantic Tension, good ol sparring as foreplay you know how it is</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 08:26:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,136</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24517642</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/bizzybee/pseuds/bizzybee</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Month by month, battle by battle, Felix and Petra grow closer together. By fate, circumstance or choice, all things come to a head as they enter the underground labyrinth of Shambhala.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Petra Macneary</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Requests [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1835620</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>By Hook or Crooked Look</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was a request for @telsiree on Twitter! Thanks for requesting!</p><p>Title is from "Not Yet/Love Run (Reprise)" by the Amazing Devil. </p><p>NOTE: I chose to follow the JPN grammar styling of Petra's grammar usage rather than the English.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The Battle at Gronder is difficult for the lot of them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s the first time Felix truly understands why the Boar lost himself after the Tragedy of Duscur. For a moment, after the fog of war cleared, even Felix felt as though he’d lost himself at the view of bodies strewn across the ground, friend and foe and foe again. The fire on the central hill still smolders, the acrid scent of smoke and blood washing over the survivors. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He feels alone in the world until Petra appears at his side, seemingly out of nowhere. He hates that she’s the only person who can sneak up on him, hates that she’s somehow more light footed than his hearing can pick up on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Most of all, he hates that she’s seeing him like this, arms crossed, tears welling in his eyes. From the smoke, clearly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Felix,” she says, sounding much too fucking chipper, “Are you hurt?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t bother answering. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We are gathering in the main tent,” Petra continues. “I think Marianne should be looking at you to make sure you are not hurt.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Felix isn’t listening. His gaze is trained on a blue and black fur coat, barely visible across the field. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Felix, we want to-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I come with you,” he says, teeth pressed together, “will you stop talking?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Petra says simply. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Felix takes one short breath. Then another. Turning, he stomps past Petra, off of the battlefield. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Petra, of course, catches up easily. They don’t speak, which suits Felix just fine, but he can feel her looking at him, watching his expression as if she’s expecting it to change, as if he’s going to burst into tears and lean on her shoulder and cry about his feelings. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s not going to, obviously. Petra can look as much as she wants, but nothing’s going to change. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nothing ever changes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Petra leaves his side once they enter the tent, and Felix sits, letting Mercedes heal wounds that he didn’t even notice were there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They don’t speak again until nearly three days later, when the bodies have been disposed of, and Felix has watched the Boar burn for the last time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their caravan is half a day’s walk from the field when Petra finds him again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was difficult,” she says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He ignores her, staring at the ground. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is hard to be killing friends.” She pauses. “I am acknowledging that it is necessary, but it is still hard.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you want?” Felix says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am just making conversation.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Make it with someone else.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do not understand why I cannot make it with you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Felix rolls his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We clash swords together, Felix. Am I being mistaken in believing that we are friends?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes," Felix says bluntly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To his surprise, Petra laughs. "Okay, Felix. You can say what you wish. I will still be walking with you, though."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I can't stop you," he grumbles, half indignant, half something he doesn't want to think about.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, you cannot," Petra agrees cheerfully. "Because I am often beating you at sword fighting."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Not </span>
  <em>
    <span>often</span>
  </em>
  <span>."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I believe that over half the time is what you call 'often,' yes?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're- Just leave me alone."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Okay." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But while Petra may stop talking, she doesn't leave his side. Every time he glances her way, she's watching him, a curious expression on her face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What," he barks after nearly an hour.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Nothing."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Look at the road in front of you," he says. "Before you trip and fall on your ass."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Petra laughs, Felix turns away. He's definitely not smiling, but if he was, Petra would be the last one to know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As much as he is loath to admit it, Petra may be his closest friend at the Monastery. They were the only ones to join the army at Garreg Mach, and that difference had never been thrown into such harsh light after Gronder Field. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's not as though those from the Alliance are celebrating, no, a sense of emptiness and a passive horror at what had just occurred settles over the monastery like a thick coat of snow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But for him and Petra, it was different. They both understand the necessity of war. They both relish in the adrenaline they get from fighting. And, now, they both shut themselves in their rooms, mourning friends that they once knew. He can hear her crying through their shared wall. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Felix doesn't cry. He organizes his room. He sharpens his swords. He tries not to think about it. He thinks about it almost constantly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Like clockwork, though, she finds him in the training grounds on Sunday in the late afternoon. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Felix, you are here," she says, sounding surprised. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why wouldn't I be?" He finally gets a good look at her. Petra's eyes are red-rimmed, hair in its braids but lying flat on her head. Felix can't imagine he looks any better. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Petra shrugs. "I do not know. Shall we spar?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You read my mind." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As it stands, Felix could count on one hand the number of people who can challenge him on the battlefield. Petra is one of them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even here, tired and sad, the way she moves, with constant pushing, feints layered on feints, combining Fódlan and Brigid methods until Felix has resorted to using defensive moves more than offensive. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He's giving up ground, concentration still subpar, recovery from Gronder still underway. He has to admit, though, that Petra’s always been a challenging opponent, even as he successfully feints and gets a tap in on Petra's shoulder. She responds in kind, pushing forward, relentless despite the fact that, a mere hour ago, Felix knows she was in tears. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their swords clash once, twice, five times, and then they're locked together, Petra pushing forward with a grim smile on her face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Felix takes a step back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Are you yielding?" she asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Felix forces himself to breathe. Locking his shoulders, he ducks forward, twisting his sword out of Petra's control. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I've done it, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thinks, taking a moment to blow a strand of hair out of his face. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ha.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>And then, Petra's boot lands in his gut. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Felix falls to the ground hard, his breath leaving him. Before he can recover, though, there's a training sword at his throat, tilting his face to the sky. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Are you yielding?" Petra repeats, eyebrows raised. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Dirty trick," Felix says, breathing heavily. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Petra presses the sword closer, the tip pressing into just above his Adam's Apple. "Are you yielding?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Fine," Felix says, gaze hard. "I yield." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Petra doesn't lower her sword. "Throw your weapon," she instructs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Felix grumbles, shoving the training sword out of arm's reach with one hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I win," Petra says, and her victorious, self-assured smile brings some of the light back to her eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Switching her sword to her left hand, Petra reaches out a hand. Felix hesitates, then takes it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I told you before," Petra said. "I am often beating you at sword fighting."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Felix scoffs, letting go of Petra's hand to pick up his sword. "You fight dirty."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I am fighting to win."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I didn't say that was an insult." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Petra laughs, stepping out of the arena.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Felix accepts the water bottle Petra hands him, smirking. "Didn't say it was a compliment, either."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You are funny, Felix." Petra takes a seat on the edge of the arena. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Felix leans against the pillar next to her. "You're the only person who's ever told me that." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Petra shrugs. "Other people are not seeing it, then."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They're quiet for a moment, the empty training grounds filled only with the sounds of heavy breathing and water sloshing in their canteens. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I want to ask you…" Petra says, then pauses, swallowing. "I want to ask you a favor."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Okay." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"My grandfather is in Brigid. He is wanting to send us supplies."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Okay."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Will you be coming with me?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Alone?" Felix asks, looking down at her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No," Petra says, snorting. "I only wanted to be asking you first."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh." Felix considers this, frowning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So?" Petra asks. "What are you saying?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Felix sighs, considering. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's not as though he needs an excuse to cross swords with anyone - if there even would be conflict on what sounds like a routine supplies mission. He knows they need the supplies, Goddess knows they always need more. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So why is he hesitating? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He glances down at Petra. She's staring straight ahead, absentmindedly picking at the hem of her tunic. There's something so incredibly… familiar about the way Petra deals with him. It's not something he's used to, not like he was Sylvain's constant teasing or Ingrid's berating. Petra treated his walls like they were made of sandpaper, acted like they were close friends right from the start, and, somehow, it worked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Usually this treatment would cause Felix to vehemently despise any who attempt it. And he did hate Petra, for a while. But when he scoffed at her, she laughed at him. When he walked away from their conversations, she followed him. They covered each other's blind spots in battle. They traded food in the dining hall. Hells, Petra was probably the only person Felix could get through hours of reconstruction work with without him actively wanting her dead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Huh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe they are friends.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Fine," he says, sliding to the ground beside her. "But only because you beat me today." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Thank you," Petra says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They sit in silence again. The high of a good spar is starting to wear off, leaving Felix antsy and itching to go again.  Petra seems entirely at ease, which almost makes him feel even more anxious to jump up, to challenge her to another fight, to- something. Anything. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s about to move again, water bottle empty, head full of thoughts, when Petra does something he isn’t expecting. Without speaking, without anything, as though it’s the easiest thing in the world, she leans her head on Felix’s shoulder.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Felix is frozen, jaw set. He doesn’t move, and can’t tell if it’s because he’s worried she’ll keep her head there or if she’ll take it away. It’s too much and not enough. Felix doesn’t even remember the last time he’s been touched by someone else, even with the simple act of a head on a shoulder. It makes him feel breathless. A little bit sick, like his stomach is turning in on itself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He surprises himself, though, when instead of jerking away or pushing her off of him, he relaxes. He doesn’t know if it’s nice, exactly, but it’s… acceptable. More than, even. Slowly, like water droplets rolling down a window pane, Felix lowers his head to rest it against Petra’s, breathing in the scent of Petra’s shampoo - eucalyptus and cinnamon. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The itch to move is still there, but tamped down by the feeling of Petra’s head on his shoulder, her braid pressing against his cheekbone, their knees knocking together on the dusty floor of the training grounds. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They sit, silent and unmoving, until the sun dips below the horizon.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>They’re ambushed on their supplies mission. It’s lucky, Felix thinks, that Petra thought to bring along so many people. Or maybe smart, instead of lucky. Petra’s never been one to discount any variables in an equation, even something so simple as a routine supplies mission. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Regardless, they succeed. The Emperor’s lapdog and his small battalion of soldiers are beaten back, and soon, they’re on a supply ship, heading back to Fodlan. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Petra joins Felix at the bow of the ship. There’s a renewed light in her eyes as she breathes in the open ocean air. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You seem chipper,” Felix says, turning his gaze back to the ocean. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is nice to be seeing my homeland again.” Petra says, and Felix can practically hear her smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Felix puts his chin in his hands, leaning against the rail. “Good for you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knows, objectively, that he shouldn’t be jealous, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’d like to go home, too. He can’t pretend, even with his eyes closed, that the balmy ocean air is anything similar to the frigid winds of the Faerghan seas. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s expecting Petra to laugh again, or to nudge him playfully, as she’s become accustomed to doing, but the shift in the air surprises him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You do not have to say that,” Petra says. “I would appreciate it if you would be happy for me, Felix, or at least not cruel.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Felix doesn’t reply. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am moving here after the war,” Petra says, forcing a semblance of nonchalance. “I am going to be queen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Felix is silent. The saltwater blows into his eyes, stinging. He glances at Petra. He has to admit, she looks more at home at Brigid, and even here, on the ocean, than she ever did at the Monastery. “Okay.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are thinking so?” Petra relaxes, and the tension in the air dissipates. “I am thinking I will start a new age of relations with Fodlan.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Felix is silent, Petra continues. “Felix,” she says, then pauses. “If you are wanting new scenery after the war, Brigid is your friend. I am, too.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Felix closes his eyes against the bright sunlight. He considers Petra's words. They set something stirring in him. The sensation is as unfamiliar as it is captivating, unwelcome as it is disquieting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He's not sure what he's about to say, but it feels good and it feels wrong when what comes out is, "I don't want your pity."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he opens his eyes, Petra is gone.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Later that month, Petra plunges her axe into the Death Knight's chest. She releases it, and Felix watches her as she keeps her gaze trained on him, reaching a hand out to steady his horse as he falls. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The battle ends quickly after that. Felix is the one to find Petra this time. She stands between two pillars, wiping blood off her axe with a look on her face that has Felix worrying she'll turn that axe on him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's a good thing he's never been one for his own personal safety.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Good form out there," he comments. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Petra turns. "Thank you." She fastens her axe to her waist. “That was…” She trails off, frowning. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was,” Felix says. There’s an itch in his chest, one he can’t place. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Felix has never been good at… asking things. He thinks that’s the best way to put it, but, in any case, now he’s shifting on his feet, and the silence between him and Petra feels loaded with something he can’t quite place. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not hurt,” he says finally. Felix means it as a question, but with the way Petra furrows her brow and stares at him curiously, he begins to think it came off as a statement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am not,” Petra says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Felix lets out a breath. “Good. We’re meeting by the South gates. Let’s go before people think we’re dead.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They trudge across the dusty and blood-spattered ground, the sounds of Empire medics scurrying from body to body filling the space where the battle had once been. They reunite silently with the rest of the army, and this time, when Petra leans her head on Felix’s shoulder as he settles onto a cot, it feels almost natural. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’re almost at the finish line, and Felix can feel it, looking around at his comrades. There’s a certain fervor in the air at the Death Knight’s demise and Hubert’s second defeat in a month, and while Petra’s as eager as the rest of them, Felix can sense the unease coming off of her in waves. He doesn’t ask about it, though.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s sure she can sense the same in him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“About Brigid,” he says as they watch the rest of the army around them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Petra shrugs. Felix feels her shoulder against his arm. “We are friends, Felix.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Friends.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You do not need to say it like it is a bad thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wasn’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Petra huffs. “Even if you are not seeing me as a friend-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do.” Felix drops his gaze to the ground. Petra lifts her head from his shoulder. "I see you as a friend."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There's a moment of silence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Petra shifts. "That is nice to hear."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Good."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The end of the war is nearing."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Felix-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No." Felix shakes his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I would like to speak." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You can," Felix says. "Just not to me."</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Petra doesn’t find him after the final battle with Edelgard, and Felix doesn’t find her, either. The last month had been filled with too much planning, scheming, and training that neither of them even had the time for their evening spars. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At least, that’s what Felix tells himself. In reality, he doesn’t venture to the training grounds once past regular training hours in the weeks before they march on Enbarr. He’s not sure how to act around Petra anymore, and he definitely doesn’t want to have to hear what he suspects she was going to tell him. There’s no time for talks like that in war. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They end up on opposite sides of the General’s meeting after the battlefield is cleared, and Felix can feel Petra staring at him. He doesn’t look back. He made it out of the battle relatively unscathed, with merely a bandage covering a stabbed eye as he watches Claude read over the letter left by Hubert after his defeat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It feels impossible. And while the idea of more fighting certainly peaks his interest, the idea that they're fighting an unknown enemy so soon after ending this war makes something rise up in him that he can't quite swallow down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And that's why, once the plans are made to return to the Monastery, Felix finds Petra in the aftermath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're going to Brigid?" he says. "Great. I'm coming with you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Felix." Petra stops and turns to him. "I will be staying to fight. And you will, too."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You don't know me." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I do," she says, and gives him a quick little smile and a pat on the cheek. "And you are coming with us to Shambhala." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Felix frowns, and his frown only deepens when Petra leans in and presses a kiss to his forehead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What was that for?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Aw! You are blushing."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stomps past her. "No I'm not." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> blushing, just like you are coming to Shambhala."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Shut up." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Petra laughs. </span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>He does go to Shambhala, though. Underground reeks of stale air and death, and something about it feels awfully unnatural. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Felix's unease is shared by Petra, he can tell by the way she sidles up to him without looking, pressing closer than usual. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"This is an evil place," Petra says quietly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Felix grunts in response. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I think the both of us are made for the open air," Petra continues, shivering. "Nothing good can happen this far below the Earth." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Mm."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Felix. Before we go to battle-" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Can we not talk about this here?" Felix hisses in a whisper. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You are avoiding me whenever we are not about to go into battle, so we are talking about it now." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Felix purses his lips and sighs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You know you have feelings for me. And I have them for you." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This is unbearable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"And I did not invite you to Brigid just to be a friend."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Felix thinks he just might die. It was never going to be a battle that took him out. Fighting is easy. What isn't easy is this, this earnest look Petra is giving him, this deep and burgeoning thing in his chest-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Say something." It's almost pleading, but not in a way where Felix will scoff. It's the pleading of someone who's been waiting, who's been trying with him, which, frankly, Felix has rarely experienced before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I…" he starts, then frowns, staring at his feet as the never ending walk continues. "You're not… wrong."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's it?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Fine. I love you. There."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Petra doesn't say anything for a moment, but Felix can feel the warmth radiating off her smile. "You are coming to Brigid with me?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can feel himself start to bristle, but Felix takes a deep breath, teeth grinding. "Fine."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"If we both survive, may I kiss you?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Okay. Survive then."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You too."</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>It’s chaos underground. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Felix can hardly tell up from down, much less make his way through the maze that is Shambhala. He’s separated from Petra almost immediately, and he and Lysithea rush through the tunnels, forcing their way through gates and enemies alike as they push towards what they hope is the core. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can barely hope that he won’t live to see Lysithea fall to worry about anyone and anything beyond his peripheral vision. It’s only when they finally, </span>
  <em>
    <span>finally</span>
  </em>
  <span> break into the central chamber, Felix practically carrying Lysithea slung over one shoulder as she blasts spell after spell and he carves the path in front of them with his sword, one-handed, that he realizes the battle has ended without their stretch of Shambhala knowing. The Professor and Claude stand over the body of Thales, breathing heavily. Felix rushes forward. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The central chamber is strangely barren, save for the bodies littering the ground, and Felix’s footsteps echo and squelch as he steps over bare tile and blood-stained floors, rejoining the rest of the army.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Marianne,” he says through his heaving, and deposits Lysithea almost gently against a pillar. “Where’s Marianne?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Claude’s already calling for her by the time Felix joins them, and Felix stays with Lysithea until she arrives. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, what happened?” Marianne asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think she may have overextended herself,” Felix says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can speak for myself,” Lysithea barks from the ground, then squeezes her eyes shut, inhaling sharply. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Felix exchanges a look with Marianne, his an eyeroll, hers a soft smile and a nod of thanks, then leaves Lysithea in her care. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are we waiting for someone?” he asks The Professor gruffly. He still hates being underground. The ceiling is dark and cold above him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Professor shakes their head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You and Lys were the last ones,” Claude supplies. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Professor frowns. “It’s too dark down here. I don’t trust it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Felix hums in agreement. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The army of the Crest of Flames is scattered around the cavern, and Felix greets Hilda and Leonie both with a tightlipped smile before he finds who he’s looking for. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Felix!” Petra cries, but doesn’t make an effort to get up from where she’s crouched, leaning against the wall. “You survived.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Felix doesn’t sit. He crosses his arms, staring down at her. “So did you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s only then that Petra pushes herself to her feet, tilting her chin up at Felix. “You are not hurt?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A few cuts. Got stabbed through the leg but Lysithea patched me up. You?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Petra steps closer. “Not even that. You are losing your touch, Felix.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Felix scoffs, face flushing. He can’t step closer, too frozen to the spot by the look Petra’s giving him to do much but blink. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So,” Petra says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then Petra’s hand is on his cheek again, but she’s keeping it there this time. She laughs at Felix’s sharp intake of breath, and Felix clenches his teeth, then forces himself to relax. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you alright?” Petra checks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Felix groans, rolling his eyes and dropping his arms. “I’m fine. Get on with it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Petra laughs, and then her lips are on his, and Felix forces himself to breathe shallow, stuttering breaths out of his nose. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s soft, and soon, Felix's heart stops threatening to fall through his chest, and his eyes flutter closed, and then it’s dry lips on drier lips and Petra’s warm hand on his face and his hand almost subconsciously coming up to settle on her waist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Petra pulls back too soon, much too soon, but Felix is reminded of the fact that they’re deep underground, surrounded by every person they know by the way Petra’s gaze flits from side to side. She steps back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Felix’s hand falls. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There,” Petra says, swallowing. “Now will you come to Brigid with me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I already said fine.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good.” Petra smiles. “Maybe you can learn from others there and finally beat me at sword fighting.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Felix rolls his eyes. “I beat you sometimes,” he spits with half-hearted venom. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Petra laughs. “But not often.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hate you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No you do not,” Petra says, then lands a kiss on his cheek before Felix pulls back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He reaches for her hand though, staring at the ground, and he’s still surprised when she immediately takes it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If the others notice Felix’s blushing face, they don’t mention it. Nor do they mention their joined hands, nor the way Felix keeps glancing at Petra, nor the way Petra pretends not to notice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s almost nice, Felix thinks. When they get out of this underground hell, even if they have to fight off the rest of the Shambhala beasts, it’ll be even nicer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And nice is enough. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With Petra, nice will always be enough.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Check out my pinned tweet on twitter @bizzybee429 and my tumblr @officialferdinand.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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